Chemistry Notes
by Pickles
Summary: WARNING: OC!!!! Just one. Ran goes through his life before Kritiker by keeping a journal...
1. Authors' Notes

The authors' notes for this go with the whole fic, so be aware now. There will be NO lemons in this journal fic. There will, however be an ALTERNATE ENDING posted at the end during which there WILL BE A LEMON. If you can live with this, you can live with the fic.  
  
Warnings: Ran pre-Kritiker, Aya-chan (shudders), bastardization of Ran's father, a het pairing (sort of), shounen ai, and major unhappiness.  
  
Dedications for this fic go to… CW (YOU ARE TOO), DragonSoul (do I have to be neesan2?), P-chan (MOMMY!!!), Dragon-chan, God (the chick), and… that's just about it. Oh. Mattie the Yohji look-alike for sitting on my lap today.  
  
All right, I suppose this should be the start of my fic now. But be warned. I wrote it, and that means you may not like it. 


	2. Aug. 4

CHEMISTRY NOTES  
  
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Several pages of chemical formulas ensue.  
  
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RAN'S JOURNAL – PLEASE KEEP OUT  
  
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Aug. 4 – I got this journal today. I've been really uptight lately, kind of like Father, and I thought maybe writing it would help. He puts a lot of pressure on me, more than usual lately, and I really try to do everything he wants. But it's hard. I don't know if he'll ever be proud of me. I do try my best, though. Doesn't that count for anything?  
  
I guess not. My father will never be proud of anything but the best from me. I just hope I can get there some day.  
  
School starts next week. I'm not looking forward to it. My eartails will get me teased again, just like they did last year. I'm so glad I have karate and ninjutsu. I may not know what people are thinking of me, but at least no one will say anything about me. They might end up sparring against me, and I can't be so far away from my own katana and an invitation to teach as all that. I can at least command that much respect. It's an important thing to me. I will be respected, one day, by my father and the rest of them. I will. These idiots at school will regret having teased me one day.  
  
Well, we got a new student yesterday in karate – Yamamato Youki. He looks okay; beat Kazuhiko quite soundly. I may have some actual competition for the top spot in the class. I wonder why he's not in ninjutsu as well.  
  
Aya-chan's softball team won today. They've been winning a lot lately, since she became team captain. She'll probably get voted Most Valuable Player, too.Why is it that she's so good at softball and soccer, and I can't even make the team? I hate that. She's always so happy. What right does she have to it? Mother's eyes are always so sad, and Father has always seemed so frustrated and angry. I'm certainly not happy. Why should she be? It isn't fair.  
  
Reading this through, I realize how petty and childish this is. I thought I was above this level of thought. Hopefully, this doesn't show in my everyday attitude. 


	3. Aug. 6

Aug. 6 – I sparred with the new kid today. He's good. Not quite as good as me, but still, good. He nearly had me pinned. He kept looking at me. I know he's wondering about my eartails when he does it. He would wear them too, if he had a father as traditional as mine. I know if I got a different haircut, I would look more masculine – but Father would go nuts. I'm his only son. I have to carry on the family name. I have to bring honor to the family name. I have to be the perfect one, for the family name. If he knew, he wouldn't stare at me. He would perhaps look at me in pity. But he wouldn't stair at me for being different. He wouldn't, and they wouldn't.  
  
He's pretty damned different himself, truth be told. He is small, delicate, even for a Japanese male, only about 4'11". And nobody has eyes like that. They're a pale, pale grey, like someone drained his eyes of all color. His hair is black, and that at least is normal; but so long! Down between his shoulder blades, in a ponytail. I've been accused of looking feminine, but even I don't make a point of it like that. I would begin to think he tries, except for that I know what it feels like.  
  
Now it's even keeping me from commenting on things, the way I look. This will hinder me all through my life. It isn't fair that the way I look should so limit me. I would have made the wrestling team but for it. The coach told me so. He was worried about – what did he call them? Ah. "Locker- room happenings." Me being forced into inappropriate situations. I told him it wouldn't happen; I am more than capable of taking care of myself. He didn't believe me.  
  
I told Father I was simply to used to martial arts to wrestle. I couldn't bear the shame of telling him I didn't make it because I look like a girl.  
  
I remember how long he yelled at me anyway. Anyone could learn martial arts, he told me. Wrestling is for real men.  
  
Real men who are in danger of molesting their more feminine teammates. That takes a real man, all right.  
  
I'm glad, now, that I didn't make it. The guys on the team strike me as males who believe their biceps can make up what their brains can't do. I would rather remain unassociated with that.  
  
I met a girl today. She was very pretty. Petite, green eyes, black hair bobbed around the face, and as demure as can be. Azuro Midori, her name was. She can trace her heritage back through the seventh century on her father's side. Perhaps I'll ask her out. Father might like her. 


	4. Aug. 8

Aug. 8 – I asked Azuro-san out yesterday. I've decided to write only every two or three days, as this is far too time-consuming for me to write every day. I always write more than I mean to. I suppose I don't express myself enough or some such crap.  
  
In any case, Azuro-san told me she would, if her parents would let her. Apparently, my eartails don't bother her like they do other people. She has a beautiful smile – soft and rather shy. Kind of like me. I like her, I think. I don't really know her that well. She may like me – and I hope she does. Calm, quiet, self-assured girls like her are hard to find. I wonder, does she like karaoke? It may not be a big thing in America, but here it's considered as good a thing to do as- oh, going to a baseball game, perhaps. It's thought of as fun, and I'm not so bad at it. That's probably what we'll do. Oh well. No point in worrying about it until I've got a clear yes or no on the matter.  
  
Yamamato-san pinned me today. He's at the head of the class now. I feel the sting of defeat. This is my area of expertise, my place to shine, and some – some stranger comes and takes it away from me. Oh well, he won't stay at the top for long. I will head of the class again, if it's the last thing I do. That is my rightful place. I deserve to be head of the class. Mother told me that it didn't matter. It does. It matters to me.  
  
School starts tomorrow. Mother and I had to get my uniforms today. I look as if I'm going to work with Father in them. I hate the tie, and the jacket. School should not feel like a profession. I wonder which classes I'll be in. It doesn't matter, really. I'll have to be head of all of them, if I want Father to give me any sort of recognition at all. If that means studying five hours a night, that's what I'll do. He will acknowledge that I can do will, that I bring him pride. I don't care what it takes.  
  
I'm still getting those looks from Yamamato-san. It's starting to piss me off. I mean, sure, my hair is different; but this is Kyoto, dammit! City of tradition. The geisha live here, for gods' sake. I'm allowed to have… an out-of-style haircut if I please. One of these days, he's going to regret it. 


	5. Aug. 10

Aug. 10 – School started yesterday. My classes are Advanced English, Japanese History, World History, Calculus, and Advanced Chemistry, plus Business, Government, and Economy classes. I think the first five will be easy, but I have no love of business. Still, Father wants me to take over the business, and I should learn the necessary tools. Even so, banking isn't my favorite pastime…  
  
Yamamato-san is in my classes. All of them. He can't be as smart as me. I need that top spot in classes. I'm already going to have to fight my way back up in karate as is. I'm glad he's not in ninjutsu as well. I'm in competition with him enough. Now that I have classes with him, I notice the stares he gives me much more. I'm going to ask him why he's staring at me soon. It's unnerving, to feel those colorless eyes on me all the time. It makes me want to stare straight back. My eyes could give him a good scare, to, that violet-rimmed black. They make me avoid mirrors, my eyes. They make me look cold and intense. And my hair makes me look angry, with my lowest fiery eyebrows. And yet my lips and nose make me… beautiful. I don't want to be beautiful. At least I have the privilege of being dangerously beautiful. Most of the time I hate my looks.  
  
Azuro-san and I are going out on the weekend. First we're going to dinner, and then we're going to karaoke. She's got such a cute smile. She told me today that I had a pretty voice, and I should talk more. Then she blushed. I do tend to be quiet. But so does she. I am going to make an effort to talk more around her though. She's too cute not to. I still have to tell Father. I'm going to see her, though. I should tell him now, but I'd rather write.  
  
Mother has been looking very unhappy. I know she always makes an effort to be happy around me, but I can always see it in her eyes. Wonder why. My father is a cold man. There is no love lost between them. Aya and I are basically the only joys in her life. I know it hurts her that I try so hard for my father, and I spend so little time with her, and I hate hurting her. But I need my time to try to get my father to care, to be happy with me, to love me. I want my father's affection. I crave it. Is it so much to ask as all that?  
  
I can guarantee Yamamato-san doesn't deal with this. If he did, he wouldn't stare at me. He'd be working too hard. 


	6. Aug. 12

Aug. 12 – I got the top spot in karate back. It was harder than I thought. To stare into those eyes, and know you're going to try and hurt them… they aren't so colorless as I thought. They only look that way from far away. They are mostly a pale grey, it is try, but there are flecks of softer, darker grey in them, and blue-grey, so that they're the exact color of the sky as the rain is stopping. How do you hit something with eyes that soft and defenseless? I had a hard time getting myself to win my spot back. But it was a matter of honor, of pride.  
  
He still stares at me, but it doesn't bother me quite so badly as it did. I don't think of his eyes as colorless anymore. Yamamato-san and I are tied in five classes for the top spot right now; I've got two of the others, and he's got one. The Economy is his. I'll have to get it back. Tied, I can handle, but not second. I have to be the best. I have to be better than anyone else. I have to be the smartest, the strongest, the fastest. Otherwise, I'll never be able to get some sort of a positive recognition from my father. I will have it. I'll have it if it kills me, or him. I'll make him care, make him admit that I bring him honor, and pride. I have to.  
  
Azuro-san and I are going out tomorrow. I'm rather nervous about it, It's a good thing I do own some Western-style clothing aside from my school uniforms – if I showed up in a kimono she would never speak to me again. If I showed up in a kimono, I think ^I^ would never speak to me again. I hope her parents like me. Maybe I can see her again. Aya-chan likes her – not that that's a surprise, or important; Aya-chan likes everyone. I like her, and that is saying something; I'm not exactly the posterchild of friendly.  
  
Mother told me today I'm going to make something of myself, if anyone cares or not. I know she was trying to tell me my father's opinion doesn't matter. It does matter. It matters horribly to me. I hate caring this much, I wish I could get over it. But I can't. I don't know why I need this confirmation so badly. But I won't rest until I get it. 


	7. Aug. 14

Aug. 14 – The date went well. Azuro-san and I, it seems, share a mutual love of music. She has a pretty voice, all soft and sultry, and she told me my singing voice sounds like black velvet. Very lyrical of her. I got more points than she did. We went to a semi-nice restaurant, as she realized that I'm on a limited budget. Somebody somewhere likes me. She looked very nice – she had on a black shirt, and a denim skirt. She probably had on heels, but she still looked petite. I think my height might have something to do with it. I may be feminine, but at least I'm tall – for a Japanese man, anyway.  
  
Azuro-san let me kiss her goodnight.  
  
It was… nice. Everything about her is nice. I don't necessarily like that. I could sleep with her, wake up the next morning, and say it was perfectly nice. The kiss WAS nice, though. She had very soft lips. She kissed me back, even, a little, not a lot, but she still did. We stopped, and she was blushing. I told her goodnight, and just sort of melted away into the night. I shouldn't be able to do that, not with my… vivid coloring, but the shadows have always befriended me. All in all, I would have to say it went well,  
  
Her parents liked me. I don't know why, but they did. Most parents look at me, figure me to be a half-breed, and dismiss me, but hers seemed to ^sense^ that I am inherently Japanese. They were… nice. Just like she is.  
  
God, they would be so out-of place at my home.  
  
Still, I like her. Perhaps I'll ask her out again. But if I do, Father will want to meet her. I don't know what I'll do about that. I really don't want him to meet her. He'll not like her, he'll find things not to like, and he won't let me see her again. Occasionally, I really dislike that Japanese tradition of obeying parents. I wish I could be American, and scream at my father, and throw a fit, and disobey him on purpose.  
  
I'm going to bed now. Maybe I'll dream of the freedom that would afford me. 


End file.
